


andante, andante

by iwantacorgisobad



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Loki (Marvel) Lives, Mostly Gen, Post-Canon, but you can read it as pre-slash, or you can see the hetero ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-08-01 03:30:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16276961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwantacorgisobad/pseuds/iwantacorgisobad
Summary: What better reason to host a fancy ball than the world being restored after Thanos' destruction? None, of course - at least that's what Tony Stark thinks as humanity faces the beginning of a new era. Still, there are some people who like to reminiscence about the old times.Or, in other words, Loki shit-talks until he gets what he wants; except he doesn't, but he doesn't know that.





	andante, andante

**Author's Note:**

> it's been a while since i've last posted anything and it wasn't even in this fandom, so excuse me if my characterization is a little off and my writing skills are a little rusty. this fic wasn't meant to be taken seriously anyway, just a little something to perhaps get myself through my writer's block //can it, like, not//, so get yourself ready for some light comedy, some light nostalgia, and some light reading between the lines, because the joke is in there somewhere
> 
> //also, i did have ABBA's andante, andante in mind while writing but it's not a songfic or anything, doesn't even really match the mood, it's just been stuck with me for a few days for whatever reason ??//
> 
> anyway, i hope you enjoy!

Minutes after Tony Stark had finished his speech, the room filled with chatter, growing louder and louder as time went on. People formed into circles varying in size, drinks in hand, smiles on; others walked the ballroom and greeted everyone as they went, stopping for photos and light conversation.

The place was filled to the brim, so much so that Loki had to wonder how they were to dance once the crowd felt up to it.

“Quite like the old times, isn’t it?”

He whipped his head around at the unexpected inquiry; standing off to the side and merely observing made him think people wouldn’t approach him, either. How wrong he had been.

“Lady Sif,” he greeted, bowing his head slightly, but remaining still otherwise. His mind strained to understand what could have made her want to talk to him, until his eyes fell on the glass in her hand.

Ah, drinking it is, then.

“Don’t get too excited, I still haven’t forgiven you for banishing me,” she said, just as he was about to continue. “I know that was you, no need to lie. Though, perhaps, you had just saved my life with that…well, until Thanos.”

Loki waited a beat before he replied, giving her a thoughtful once-over as he did so, “You’re welcome.”

Sif blinked and kept silent for a short second, then broke into laughter, “That’s not what I expected you to say after looking me over like that.”

“Had I said what you expected me to, I’d have most likely ended up with a knife at my throat,” he pointed out with a tight smile, then added, “seeing there are no swords around.”

“You really got to know me through the years, haven’t you?” she sighed, and lifted the glass to her mouth. Loki’s eyes flicked over her lips; hers flicked over the gathering of people in the opposite corner until they landed on Thor.

“I could say that, yes,” Loki nodded, then followed her gaze with a smug smile. “You have an opponent now, did you know that?”

Sif choked on her drink ungracefully before looking up at Loki again, with eyes much clearer now than only a minute before, “Who?” she demanded without thinking it through, then cleared her throat to gain back some of her dignity, “I mean, what do you mean I have an opponent?”

“Clearly, you’re still trying to win Thor’s heart,” he stated matter-of-factly, yet Sif looked at him so incredulously he felt obligated to soften the blow, “correct me if I am wrong.”

“You are wrong,” she hissed. Loki raised an eyebrow but did not say anything in response—she held his gaze for surprisingly long but eventually gave in, earning another sly grin from him. “I may still long for his favour, yes, but I’m in no way trying to win his heart. If I wanted it so much, I’d be able to get it anytime.”

Loki sighed in exasperation, then inclined his head towards Valkyrie and Thor. “See that girl over there? In the golden gown?” he whispered, loud enough for her to hear but quiet enough not to get the attention of those standing nearby.

“You’ll have to be more specific.” A roll of her eyes.

“There’s only one quite like her, you see,” Loki continued, essentially ignoring Sif’s rising anger. Instead, he leaned closer and put an arm around her, “The one talking to Thor. The flirty smile, perfect white teeth, the occasional bottle in hand…I’m sure you can see her, no one else is touching him right now.”

“Yes, I can see her,” she snapped, raising her hands in surrender. Loki understood the sign to back away, but the knowing expression remained. “So, you’re saying she’s my…what word did you use, opponent?”

“I’m not saying anything,” Loki shrugged, taking another step backwards; almost as if urging her to leave. Her eyes held nothing but confusion once they returned to him.

“Why do I feel like you’re just trying to turn me against a stranger?”

“Because that would be fun,” he admitted, finally cracking a smile that bordered on genuine. “I’m not doing that, though. Just telling you the truth.”

“That’s a hard one to believe from the Liesmith,” she grinned widely, matching his own, then took a few steps away from him. “I’ll go and check myself. It was almost nice talking to you.”

Loki scoffed, crossing his arms, “I wish I could say the same about you.”

Sif rolled her eyes with the smile still on her lips, curtsied briefly, then turned to leave. He let out a relieved sigh at finally being left alone, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness creeping up his spine once more.

 

Once he got bored of watching people mill about he left his hiding place behind one of the great marble pillars and wandered around the corner of the ballroom for a bit. He did see some familiar faces, but no one seemed to bother to talk to him—perhaps his expression of cold indifference succeeded at scaring them away. Where he ended up after a round or two was by the buffet tables, trying out a few Midgardian foods Tony Stark and his team were so generous to display.

“If I can recommend something, you should try the chocolate dipped fruits,” Banner said, appearing seemingly out of thin air. Loki raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I guess you had that in Asgard, too. So you won’t upset your stomach.”

“I’ve been living here for months,” he deadpanned, but reached for a slice nonetheless. He didn’t even notice he had taken a few steps back until Banner mirrored it with a look of apology on his face.

“I know,” Banner blabbered, then picked up some kind of tiny sandwich and lifted it to his mouth, “but I wouldn’t think you’ve tried _this_ in that time. And it’s weird at first.”

“Why? What’s that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion as he observed the food in Banner’s hands.

“Crostini with smoked salmon.”

“It looks raw.”

“It is,” Bruce nodded, and stuffed the bite into his mouth. Loki tried his best not to gag.

“You Midgardians are…something else,” he managed with a gulp. That was when he decided he didn’t want to eat anymore.

“Alcohol is probably the same as yours if you want to give it a try,” he offered apologetically, struggling to swallow the bite. Loki exhaled, but his throat still felt too tight.

“Any recommendations?”

“There are great wines across the table. Red and white.”

He nodded with a forced smile as a means of thanking him and left immediately, leaving Banner to his raw salmon and crusty whatever. So much about not upsetting his stomach.

 

Wine in hand, he strolled back to the spot behind the pillar he came to love as the night carried on. No one really ventured out there anymore after someone had initiated dancing—he wasn’t sure who, but he had a guess it was either his brother or Captain America. The old-fashioned oafs.

The music wasn’t slow, but it wasn’t really fast, either; not quite like anything he had heard on Asgard before. People here seemed to enjoy it, though. From the corner of his eyes he saw Tony Stark and his fiancée with their foreheads pressed together, Agent Barton and a red haired girl who wasn’t the Black Widow dancing not exactly in sync with the rhythm, Captain America struggling to hold back a smile as he tried to guide the real Black Widow through some forties-moves she obviously didn’t like…and looked away just in time to see Thor spinning Sif around.

“Can you even dance?”

Loki couldn’t help but grunt at his third uninvited companion this evening, but his irritation lessened a fragment when he saw it was Valkyrie this time. Finally, at least someone he got along with, even if in a somewhat strange way.

“Shall I show you?” he asked, then matched her motion of lifting his drink to his lips and taking a good swig. The wine on Midgard was sweet, far too sweet for his liking, but in the very least it was something he was familiar with.

“No need, I’m fine with the company I have already,” she shook her head, smirking at him as she held up the…bottle of something she was drinking.

“Which is?”

“Vodka, they say,” Valkyrie shrugged, then extended it to Loki. He inspected the transparent liquid carefully before deciding to give it a try, offering her his wine in turn. “What’s that, strawberry juice?”

“Certainly as sweet as that would be but no, it’s wine,” he explained, exaggerating the grimace at the end. Valkyrie gave a hearty laugh.

“I don’t think I want to taste that. You should taste this, though,” she pushed, gesturing at the bottle of vodka with her chin. Loki rolled his eyes—then guzzled what must have been worth a few shots. When he lowered the bottle, he saw her giving an impressed nod. “Not bad for someone who wants to throw up from seeing raw salmon.”

“None of your business,” he sneered, and didn’t give himself a chance to ask her how she knew. It was probably for the better if she didn’t tell. Instead, he just shoved the vodka back into her hands and looked away, almost like a pouting child; which he was, compared to her in age.

Valkyrie laughed again, “Whatever you say, your highness,” she joked, readjusting her grip on the neck of the bottle in one hand, and on the glass of wine in the other. Loki wondered how her liver was holding up. “Speaking of which, I believe your brother is somewhere on his way here, so I better get going. See you later, Lackey!”

“You, too,” he scowled, and as he watched her walk away, he acknowledged rather reluctantly that he immediately started searching for Thor with his eyes.

He realized just a beat later that the music had changed to something slower, more like those they played back in Asgard. In fact, he was certain he had heard that tune—that melody—before, only he just didn’t know when. He couldn’t place it even with closed eyes, but he enjoyed the moment while it lasted; before someone else disturbed him again.

Which happened sooner than he expected.

“May I have this dance?”

He wanted to feel annoyed, he really did, but Thor’s voice succeeded once more at soothing him; and he already had a loose grip on his hand—after the proper question and whatnot he just skipped waiting for his response altogether—by the time he opened his eyes. Loki blinked once, then twice as the pieces fell into place, and suddenly it dawned on him that the music changing was not by chance at all.

The first time he went to a ball on Asgard, still as a child, just the required age; no one batted an eye his way. No one, except for Thor, who had grabbed him by the waist and arm and swayed him around the ballroom clumsily, completely unknowing of the actual dance moves—but truth be told, neither of them could have cared less.

This time, it was different: they both knew how to dance, they were almost the same height, although they weren’t children anymore, when it was easily overlooked that they chose each other instead of the many girls gathered around them. One thing remained the same, though: they didn’t care.

“You may,” he replied, squeezing Thor’s hand in confirmation. The smile that followed was so bright Loki had to look down—and kept his eyes there as his brother led him to the dancefloor.

“I hope you remember the last time this happened,” Thor said, once they took their place among the sea of waltzing people. Despite Loki’s concerns, nobody seemed to pay attention, apart from when they passed by so as not to bump into them.

“Oh, I do,” he snickered, finally relaxing somewhat, and although he was intent on taking the lead this time, he found himself complying when Thor placed a hand on his waist. “You weren’t quite the dancer back then.”

Thor chuckled, a low sound for such a delight, and closed his fingers around Loki’s hand in his. It was funny how much they didn’t fit together.

“Neither were you, brother.”

“How about we see how that’s changed?” Loki smiled—and this time, meant it.

 

 

 

Leaning against the intricate railing of the balcony stood Valkyrie and Sif, observing the crowd from above—having both lost sight of the only two men they were willing to dance with, they ended up with a shared tray of food they both landed eyes upon. It didn’t take Sif more than five minutes to decide she liked her, regardless of Loki’s attempt at making her do the opposite.

“How well do you know Loki?” Sif asked, placing her glass of punch on the table beside them to pick up another slice of pecan pie. Valkyrie took the tray from her hands, allowing her to eat comfortably, and glanced down at the party again.

“Not much, but I know he likes to wreak havoc,” she replied after an unusual amount of contemplation. Maybe it was because she finally found the two brothers among the gathering of people, and had a hard time trying to determine if they really were doing what they looked like they were doing.

“So you think he would try to make me fight you over something stupid,” Sif half-asked, half-concluded, and earned a rather unfeminine laugh in response.

“Absolutely,” she nodded enthusiastically. “He’s a little hard to figure out, but if you accuse him of something wicked, you can be damned sure you’re right.”

Sif smiled, too, shaking her head with what she realized a beat later was fondness, then stepped closer to Valkyrie when she gestured for her to look.

“You found them?” she asked, ready to frolic with either of them to a brighter tune once this was over—but what she saw when she leaned over the railing to inspect suggested she’d have to wait a little longer for that.

Below the balcony, by then completely offbeat, were Thor and Loki dancing; not even waltzing as everyone else around them, just moving to and fro with their arms tightly around each other. Thor’s head hung low, hidden in the shoulder of his brother’s coat…and was that a tear Loki just wiped away?

“What can I say,” Sif breathed out with an impressed expression, “even after a millennia, they’re full of surprises.”

**Author's Note:**

> //for those of you wondering what Sif meant by that banishment thing, apparently while Loki was playing king he had banished her to Earth, essentially saving her butt from Ragnarök (but that's just what I read because shame on me I haven't watched Agents of SHIELD yet)


End file.
